Head of Alexander found in Italy

 The news, apparently, did not make headlines.

As I watched a documentary on National Geographic, I was introduced to the city of Terracina, where archaeologists are tracing the rise and coming to power of Rome. 

After a detour about the Roman conquest of Carthage, illustrated by the discovery of a ship’s ram near the Egadi Islands, I was taken to the site of Terracina, which was unknown to me. It is located about halfway between Rome and Naples on the ancient Via Appia. 

The modern city steadily stands among and on top of the ancient one. An excellent example to this effect is the old Forum, with its exposed, near-intact pavement. The marble slabs are being trodden by the feet of the tourists, often unaware of the imprint of the bronze inscription left by the local Roman magistrate, Aulus Aemilius. He rebuilt and paved the Forum, enhancing the place with porches and new civil and religious buildings. Amazingly, the Via Appia runs right alongside the Forum. 

On the cliff high above the city proper stood a most remarkable small Hellenistic temple from the 2^nd century BC. It is considered to be the oldest Hellenistic structure of its kind and the first terraced temple in the region. Archaeologists have not yet been able to define to which god it was dedicated. 

Its presence proves that Terracina was in close contact with other Hellenistic cities around the Mediterranean at a time when the Romans had not yet conquered all of Italy. 

The hill is nowadays known as Monte Sant’Angelo, maybe in memory of the religious ceremonies that were held here. 

In 2021, the surprise find was a terracotta head that shared the familiar traits of Alexander the Great. It is not clear whether it was unearthed in the little temple or the larger area of the sanctuary. 

We may safely assume that the presence of Alexander makes sense. After its victory over Carthage, Rome conquered Alexander’s homeland in the 2^nd century BC. In the process, it established itself as the new military power of the ancient Mediterranean world. Alexander’s deeds and conquests had served as Rome’s role model.

Unfortunately, I have not been able to get hold of a picture of this newly discovered Alexander head – maybe later?

[First picture from Following Hadrian; third picture from Archaeologywiki]

How Roman roads led to the prosperity of Europe

The Romans were master builders and that included the roads, many of which have survived as such or simply by their itinerary.

The very first road the Romans built was the well-known Appian Way that connected Rome to Capua as early as 312 BC. Realizing the importance of moving troops quickly over all-weather roads through the Italic peninsula, the Via Appia was constructed that same year in order to link Rome to Brundisium, modern Brindisi. It was named after Appius Claudius, who was Consul of Rome at that time.

The success of the Via Appia was such that the road immediately became the model for all those built afterward not only in Italy but all over the Roman Empire, i.e. from Hadrian’s Wall on the modern Scottish border all the way to Northern Africa and the Near East.

A team of Danish researchers took a very close look at the Roman network when it was at its greatest geographical extent in 117 AD and compared it with satellite images of modern Europe at night with astonishing results. As expected, the night view revealed that the most brightly illuminated spots corresponded to major cities, towns, and motorways. Overlaying the Roman network, it appeared, however, that modern road density went hand in hand with the Roman road density, meaning greater economic activity. This similarity is particularly striking for today’s capitals like London, Paris, and Rome, as well as for the densely populated Po Valley in Northern Italy.

[Picture from Archaeology News Network]

Let us not forget that Roman cities and military outposts all over Europe needed to be reached quickly by the legions and only well-maintained and paved roads could ensure such fast moves of troops. At the same time, these roads were used for trade purposes which in turn led to a serious economic development that lasted even after the fall of the Roman Empire, and it is still strong two thousand years later.

It is not really surprising to notice that North Africa and the Middle East did not follow this trend because after the Romans left the area the roads were no longer maintained. The local tribes, abandoning horses and carts switched to camel caravans who moved outside the paved routes. As a consequence, no significant link between the old and modern infrastructure is left for us to see.

In Europe alone, the Roman network extended over 80,000 kilometers. Speed and travel comfort were important for the Romans in order to reach their base or battlefield and to connect with their colonies at the edge of the empire.  It is worth mentioning that roads also implied the construction of bridges, tunnels, and adequate drainage systems – logistics that have nothing to envy our modern communication system. An amazing facet of Roman history.

A unique way to look at the Roman Roads

The article which I reproduce below and the accompanying map has been published by Sasha Trubetskoy. Clicking on this link will take you to a better view of the map which you can also enlarge. Enjoy!

It’s finally done. A subway-style diagram of the major Roman roads, based on the Empire of ca. 125 AD.

The lines are a combination of actual, named roads (like the Via Appia or Via Militaris) as well as roads that do not have a known historic name (in which case I creatively invented some names). Skip to the “Creative liberties taken” section for specifics.

How long would it actually take to travel this network? That depends a lot on what method of transport you are using, which depends on how much money you have. Another big factor is the season – each time of year poses its own challenges. In the summer, it would take you about two months to walk on foot from Rome to Byzantium. If you had a horse, it would only take you a month.

However, no sane Roman would use only roads where sea travel is available. Sailing was much cheaper and faster – a combination of horse and sailboat would get you from Rome to Byzantium in about 25 days, Rome to Carthage in 4-5 days. Check out ORBIS if you want to play around with a “Google Maps” for Ancient Rome. I decided not to include maritime routes on the map for simplicity’s sake.

Creative liberties taken

The biggest creative element was choosing which roads and cities to include, and which to exclude. There is no way I could include every Roman road, these are only the main ones. I tried to include cities with larger populations, or cities that were provincial capitals around the 2nd century.

Obviously to travel from Petra to Gaza you would take a more or less direct road, rather than going to Damascus and “transferring” to the Via Maris. The way we travel on roads is very different from rail, which is a slight flaw in the concept of the map. But I think it’s still aesthetically pleasing and informative.

Here’s a list of the roads that have authentic names and paths:

• Via Appia
• Via Augusta
• Via Aurelia
• Via Delapidata
• Via Domitia
• Via Egnatia
• Via Flaminia
• Via Flavia (I, II, III)
• Via Julia Augusta
• Via Lusitanorum
• Via Militaris
• Via Popilia
• Via Portumia
• Via Salaria
• Via Tiburtina
• Via Traiana
• Via Traiana Nova

Some roads have real names but were modified somewhat:

• The Via Latina I combined with the Via Popilia. In reality the Popilia ended at Capua, and the Latina went from Capua to Rome.
• Via Aquitania only referred to the road from Burdigala (Bordeaux) to Narbo (Narbonne).
• Via Asturica Burdigalam similarly only refers to the Astrurica-Burdigala section.
• “Via Claudia” is not a real name, but refers to a real continuous road built by Claudius.
• Via Hadriana was a real road in Egypt, but it refers to a slightly different section than the green route.
• The name “Via Maris” is considered to be a modern creation, referring to real ancient trade road whose real name has been lost to history.
• Via Valeria only referred to a section of the yellow Sicilian loop.
• The roads around Pisae, Luna and Genua had several names for different sections, including Via Aemilia Scauri. Sometimes “Via Aurelia” referred to the entire road from Rome to Arelate.
• Via Sucinaria is the Latin name for the Amber Road, a trade route from the Baltic region to Italy that carried amber as a valuable good. It probably was not used to refer to a single literal road.
• Via Gemina and Via Claudia Augusta are real names that referred to small parts of the routes marked on the map.

The other roads have relatively uncreative names that I invented, usually based on a place that they pass through. I have never formally studied Latin and I’ll admit that I am somewhat confused by the distinction between -a and -ensis endings, so there’s a chance I may have messed that up.

As questions come up I will update this section.

Ptolemais, heritage of the Ptolemies in the Cyrenaica (eastern Libya)

The origin of Ptolemais (or Barca) of the Libyan Pentapolis (see: Apollonia in Cyrenaica (eastern Libya) after Alexander) goes back to the middle of the 6th century BC. Still, the name Ptolemais was probably given by Ptolemy III Euergetes, the grandson of Ptolemy I, who, in 322 BC, added the city to his realm after becoming the ruler of Egypt as successor to Alexander the Great. When the Romans annexed Egypt in the first century BC, they granted Ptolemais the status of a separate province. Since the city had no local water supply, the Roman architects managed to bring in water from the surrounding hills and store it in seventeen huge cisterns under the Forum. It was a flourishing city until it was struck by the destructive earthquake of 365 AD, which caused the entire North African coast to drop by about 4 meters. The invasion of the Vandals in 428 probably gave the final blow. The Byzantines moved their military governor to Apollonia, and the Arabs ensured the city was abandoned.

It still looks abandoned today, a mere flat site thrown with stones and rocks, with a sporadic tree to bring in some color. The access road to ancient Ptolemais is not inviting either, as it runs through a solid row of abandoned houses that the Italians built last century – a proper ghost town known as Tolmeitha. It is an eerie feeling to drive over this straight road flanked by colorful facades with cast-iron decorations, which, for some reason, made me think of the Via Appia in Rome, where the tombs are replaced by empty houses.

The city of Ptolemais is no more than a field on a gentle slope from the Mediterranean up to the mountains, where even the Hippodamian plan is hard to figure out. I am happy to be pointed to the familiar Decumanus and Cardo once I’ve reached the crossroad where a piece of wall and a lonely column are all that remains of the Arch of Constantine from 312 AD. The Decumanus has been promoted to Monument Street or Via Porticata, with on one side the Roman Baths and on the other side the remains of a private house. It was on this road that the Edict of Diocletian from 301 AD was found, setting the prices for the trade goods now in the local museum.

At the next crossroad, marked with Four Columns, I turn right to visit the imposing remains of the so-called Palazzo delle Colonne, meaning the “Villa with the Columns.” Since this is about the only reconstructed building, it can hardly be missed. The Villa lies here in all its splendor, and it is generally accepted that it was built according to the then-prevailing fashion in Alexandria (Egypt). This theory is hard to verify since old Alexandria is still buried deep under the modern city, and an excellent example of such a villa has never been found, but I like the idea. In any case, the owner was not a poor man.

We owe the qualification of Palazzo to the Italian archaeologists of the last century, who found that it covered an entire street block (600 sqm) and counted two levels. The rear of the building, the living quarters, is resting on a plateau from where the owner had a panoramic view over the city, and I can see all the way to the seafront. This part had an upper level, probably the sleeping quarters. In front of these quarters below me, there is space for eight shops opening into the street, with, in the back, their own storage rooms. This storage lies next to a large patio and a complete bathing complex, including a Caldarium, Tepidarium, and Frigidarium, probably for the master of the house and his family. A separate staircase leads from the house directly to the patio below.

The re-erected columns are not well restored, with big blobs of cement in between, but they give an excellent idea of the past glory. The leaves at the bottom of the columns are quite exceptional, a subtle hint to Egypt – hence the name oecus aegyptius used to name this room. It takes some imagination to crown these columns with the capitals (now at the local museum) of the Corinthian order, with the heads of Jupiter and Mars staring down from between the acanthus leaves.

Behind this room and in the center of this complex lies the Atrium, including the earthen pipes that led the water to the bubbling fountain in the center of the pool. The Atrium was surrounded by a covered gallery resting on Ionic columns and paved with black and white mosaics, now carefully covered with plastic and soil. However, the edges are still exposed here and there. Central in this Atrium is the summer dining room that offers a view over the inside garden, and the water basin, once paved with magnificent mosaics. More protected from the elements lies, on the right-hand side, the winter dining room adjacent to the so-called Medusa room, after the mosaic found here, which has also been moved to the museum.

I am quite impressed by this Palazzo delle Colonne, not only because of its location, which is striking by itself, but also by the entire combination of these unique columns with their decoration and paintings, the many mosaic floors in color as well as black and white, and the many statues that enhanced these rooms because the Venus and Bacchus from the museum certainly were not the only ones found here. This Villa, in my opinion, goes beyond what has been found in Pompeii or Herculaneum, although they have other characteristics.

The next house block is entirely occupied by the Forum, paved with small slabs of marble and surrounded by columns, a few of which have (not too well) been restored. Under this Forum from the second century AD (in Greek times, this was a Gymnasium), the true treasure of Ptolemais lies buried: its water cisterns. Eight such huge galleries run north-south over a total length of 50 meters, and nine run east-west over 20 meters. I have seen such cisterns in cities like Termessos and Sillyum in Turkey, but not of this size. The oldest cisterns are from Hellenistic times, and when I climb down the stairs in the center of the Forum, I can clearly see the marks where supporting beams held the flat wooden roof of that period. The Romans later covered the entire system with vaulted ceilings and, in the process, more than doubled the storage capacity to reach as much as six million liters! It is a unique experience to walk through these vaulted galleries!

Right behind the Forum lies the Odeon – a somewhat controversial building. Originally built as a Bouleuterion, this Odeon dates from the 4th-5th century AD but might as well be a small theatre since the half-circular orchestra could be filled with water. However, the water supply is too far away from the theatre to be used as such, and even if this space could be filled with water, to what purpose was it used? Some archaeologists opt for miniature sea battles, while others think the water would be used to improve the acoustics. For the time being, this remains a mystery.

At the far end to the left, on the west side, one can discern the contours of the Teucheira city gate from the 5th century AD, but the entire extent in between seems still in dire need of excavation. Ptolemais definitely was an important city.

On my way back, walking over the westerly Cardo to the exit, I stopped at the Roman Villa where the mosaic of the Four Seasons was found (now at the local museum). Not much to see except that this building deserves to be called a villa. Noteworthy is that the colonnade around the Atrium ends in a horseshoe shape – an exception to the standard square pattern. Simple, smooth columns surround the central area, neatly restored without the blobs of cement the Italians used elsewhere.

The local museum is nothing more than a large storage room, but it is nice to have it so close to the excavation site (Now, a few years after the fall of Gaddafi, I wonder what has become of this place). I marvel at the fine mosaics apparently imported from Alexandria, framed with rougher mosaics laid by local craftsmen. The Medusa-mosaic from the Palazzo delle Colonne steals the show, next to two fragments with hens and fishes, and another large mosaic carpet showing the Four Seasons with two panthers underneath. True gems!

Next to a beheaded Bacchus and an elegant Venus with the head of Demeter (a strange combination), both from the 2nd century AD and found at the above-mentioned Villa, there are several painted and artistically carved Corinthian capitals revealing the heads of Jupiter and Mars. Interesting also are the aerial views of the villas I just visited. In a corner, I find the remains of a sarcophagus with an image of Achilles and, standing behind him, his mother, Thetis. An intriguing discovery, although I need help understanding what they are doing here.

One of the masterpieces is the slightly damaged panel from the Via Porticata, which shows several goods and their respective prices according to the Edict of Diocletian from 301 AD. That such legislation existed at all is quite impressive! Next to it stands a particularly graceful relief with six dancing Maenads found on the same avenue. The Maenads were a favorite subject in antiquity, and this relief has enhanced the base supporting a statue of the dramatist Euripides. The original statue was sculpted in Athens in 405 BC, but this is the best (Roman) copy. The ecstatic Maenads, followers of Dionysus, are particularly elegant in their floating robes, waving the thyrsus staff and shaking their tambourines. Such a pity that in later years, the piece was used around a well, for otherwise, it is relatively well-preserved.

Once more, this is a city that owes its glory to Alexander and his successors, as it lived on for another 700 years. Ptolemais definitely deserves to be added to the list of Alexander’s achievements.

If we pay more attention than usual, we find much more than the sites and buildings we are pointed towards. It happened to me while driving out of Ptolemais, as I noticed the remains of a Hellenistic tomb, clearly inspired by the Mausoleum of Halicarnassus. It is no more than a lonely square in the middle of an abandoned field used as a garbage dump, although fenced off with barbed wire, planks, and corrugated roofing. The original tomb must have been much higher than the remaining 11 meters, but the floor plan of 12 x 12 meters is still intact. This tomb belongs to the 2nd century BC, Ptolemaic times, and still carries the alternating motives of triglyphs and metopes along the top edge, although the friezes have long since disappeared, just like the steps at the base. As elsewhere, it was common practice to dismantle old buildings to reuse the recuperated stone blocks in new constructions (spolia).

Via Egnatia, a road to remember

During my first visit to Philippi (Greece), I noticed the inscription “Via Egnatia” next to what appeared to be a Roman road running a couple of meters below the modern road and parallel to it.

Till then, I only knew about the main roads of Italy, like the Via Appia, the Via Emilia, Via Aurelia, Via Flaminia, the Via Trajana, and the Via Ostiensis, to name only a few, but the Via Egnatia?

Since it bordered the Roman Agora at Philippi, it must have been important, and I soon found out that it ultimately connected to Rome. Built in the 2nd century AD, it started back in Byzantium, running through Thracia, Macedonia (Philippi, Kavala, Amphipolis, Thessaloniki, Pella, Edessa, Florina) over the mountain passes to Lake Ohrid; from there, over a difficult stretch along the Genusus River to the Adriatic Sea at Dyrrachium (originally Epidamnos), today’s Durrës in Albania opposite the port of Brindisi on the Italian Peninsula; hence the connection to Rome. Like most Roman roads, it was about six meters wide, and in many places, it was covered with large stone slabs. In total, it covered a distance of 1,120 kilometers. According to Strabo, it was named after Gnaeus Egnatius, proconsul of Macedonia, who seems to have initiated its construction, although that has not been proven yet. The road was expanded and improved many times, and for centuries, it remained Rome's vital link with its eastern provinces.

[picture from Wikipedia]

The Via Egnatia made history when Julius Caesar and Pompey marched over it, fighting for supremacy during the Great Roman Civil War that lasted from 49 to 45 BC. Leading to the Battle of Philippi in 42 BC, the armies of Marc Antony and Octavian pursued Cassius and Brutus along the same road, and several milestones have been recuperated, recording the many crucial events of its life span. By the fifth century AD, large sections fell into disrepair, especially at its western end, and the Via Egnatia became more of a name than an actual highway.

The modern version, called Egnatia Odos, now links Igoumenitsa on the Adriatic coast to Greece’s eastern border with Turkey - a distance of 670 km and a worthy ode to the ancient Via Egnatia.

[Egnatia Odos]

Many portions of the antique highway have survived, and the best known, I think, is to be found in Philippi. But this soon may change with the discovery of a marble-paved road at a depth of three meters during the construction works for the metro in Thessaloniki. Many tombs and graves from the fourth century BC to the fourth century AD once lined this road and yielded many offerings that accompanied the dead. So far, 1,500 pieces of silver, gold, and copper jewelry have been unearthed, as well as gold coins from Persia, glass perfume bottles, terracotta vessels, and even eight golden wreaths.

Wonderful Patara! - Lycian Coast 12

The minibus drops us at the foot of the aqueduct further inland. My vision of an aqueduct is the typical Roman concept of arched vaults spanning the entire valley, connecting one side to the other, but this one surprisingly looks more like a dam. Our path runs alongside a sophisticated water channel, cutting like a stone trough in the hillside, and a little further on, we see the petrified silt still sticking to the inner walls. We then reach the level where the aqueduct crosses the valley atop a solid stone wall, which, from a distance, resembles a barrage. At the top of the wall, the square mass-produced stone blocks line up like soldiers in a close row. In the center of these blocks measuring 90 x 90 cm runs a round pipe with, on one end, a male connection and a female on the other, so the blocks simply click together. Every five blocks or so, there is a plug for maintenance access, and at regular intervals, the male connector has a higher ridge, so the entire block can be wiggled out of the row in case of severe clogging. All in all, it is a surprising construction, and I have never seen anything like it! It was built under Emperor Nero around 50 AD, and according to the inscription on this wall, it was repaired under Vespasian, some 12 years later.

As we walk around to the foot of this dam, I can now see two small gateways held in place by enormous lintels above them that served as passages for cattle or people. Proceeding further in the direction of Patara, we keep crossing the winding aqueduct time and again. Part of our path actually runs right through the water channel, which over the years has lost its top slabs as they made good reusable building material. We don’t walk the entire length of 21 kilometers – thank God! – but we can trace the course of this marvelous construction through the landscape. Very interesting, I must say.

After a couple of hours of treading over these old paths and passages, the grand city of Patara lies at our feet. The unmistakable theater fills the middle of the picture. What a view! In the foreground stands a rather narrow arch, 10 meters high and 19 meters long, built in such a way that it aligns with the aqueduct, leading its water further to the fountains and Nymphaeums in town. It was actually constructed around 100 AD to honor the first governor-general of Lycia and Pamphylia, administrator of Patara, C. Trebonius Proculus Mettius Modestus. The niches and pedestals that once held statues are empty now, but clearly give a certain grandeur to this imposing three-arched construction that, surprisingly enough, shows the same design on both sides.

On the higher elevation to the west, beyond the swamps at our feet, recent excavations have revealed a large, round, tower-like building. This is what is left of an almost 2,000-year-old lighthouse. It is believed to be sixty years older than the one found in Spain, which was known as being the oldest in the world and was built around 60 A.D. Originally, the Patara lighthouse must have stood approximately 16-20 meters high.

At the foot of the mountain, we just came down an ancient road that leads out of Patara, flanked by sarcophagi for the Patarans – like the Via Appia in Rome, no less. The sun is setting quickly now, putting Mettius Modestus’ Arch on fire and wrapping the lonely Lycian sarcophagus uphill in a golden shred.

To make the most of the dwindling light, our bus drops us at the southern end of Patara, which was, and in some parts still is, buried under the sand. The theater, for one, has been only recently unearthed, much to Peter’s surprise and disappointment. He always felt it was very rewarding when climbing the sand dunes to suddenly find himself in the middle of the theater. That enchantment is gone now, but instead of sand, we see shiny white stones as if the theater were built just yesterday. It is of Hellenistic origin, with most of the two-floored skene and the five doors opening to the proscenium still in place. Around the orchestra, the seats have been removed to make place for a stone wall, meaning that the theater was converted into an arena where wild animal fights could be held. The VIP seats have obviously been removed and found a new place in the ambulatorium.

It is nearly dark by now, and we can just decipher the inscription on the sidewall beside the parados, reading that the theater was built with the contributions of the people of Patara. Other inscriptions mention that the theater was rebuilt at the beginning of the 1st century AD after needing repair following the earthquake of 141 AD. An extended annotation indicates that the proscenium was constructed by a certain Velio Titionus and that his daughter, Velia Prouila, provided funds for the statues and the decorations "in honor of the gods of Augustus and in honor of the gods of Patara city and in honor of Emperor Antoninus Pius in the year 147 AD". It makes me wonder how emancipated Roman women actually were.

Across from this theater stands a most impressive building, also very recently resuscitated from the sands. This is the Lycian Council – of all places! The access is barred with iron gates, but one can easily recognize the Odeon-shaped seating inside, flanked by two sturdy entrances under high vaulted ceilings. The floor is probably covered with mosaics, but I cannot see them from the outside. I am very much excited to see this important Council, for this is where delegates from all over Lycia come together to vote on important matters. Since the League itself is so much older than the clearly Roman entrance indicates, I wonder if maybe the central part, i.e., the Odeon-shaped construction, dates from Lycian times (2nd century BC). I may have been framed in a Roman concept later on – unless it is standing on old Lycian foundations? I am curious what future excavations will reveal.

Peter mentions that the famous Temple of Apollo has not been located yet. Its oracle, it is said, would rival only that of Delphi, and the Temple itself equaled the reputation of the famous temple of Delos. It was believed that Apollo lived at Delos during the summer but spent his winters at Patara.

Turkish archaeologists are actively digging here right now, so who knows what they’ll come up with? Our visit is only superficial, just enough to put Patara on the map, but I am determined to come back one day and investigate this important site in detail. By now, darkness has set in with a crescent moon looking down on all these centuries past. For us, it is time to drive back to our gulet.

Our poet has once again written a poem about this unique city:

P A T A R A  -  a sonnet

The city gate still stands. The aqueduct,

A seam of rubble stitched across the hill.

Goats browse inside the tumbled bathhouse walls.

No splash of water now. No voices heard

Along the marbled street. The theater plays

A scene of drifting sand. The harbor walls

Confront a silted bay. No sailors’ shouts,

No clank of anchor chains, no travelers’ tales.

Above the buried stones a woman calls

Her cows for milking. Low across the marsh

Two herons fly. A mellow sunset breeze

Rustles the reeds. Listen. Perhaps you hear,

Among the scattered, vaulted, empty tombs,

The dry whisper of Lycian ghosts.

John Onley - May 2005

 

Tonight the crew has the evening off, and we are dining out for a change. Peter made reservations at Restaurant Belgin, in uptown Kalkan. We are seated in elegant Ottoman style outside on the roof among richly decorated cushions and colorful canopies, and flowers. I find it difficult to fit my legs under the low table, and the only way to do so is by taking my shoes off. It is a most lovely spot, but, unfortunately, we are getting colder by the minute, and after the mezes, we move downstairs around a square table under high wooden ceilings. The food is delicious, but we all agree that Fatuşa’s cooking still wins the prize! We are all enjoying ourselves very much, and time flies; it is midnight when we return to our bunks.

Click on the Label Lycian Coast to read the full story